


You Can Leave Your Shirt Off

by misura



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Drunkenness, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The first coordinates they get out of Cerebro lead them to a strip club.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Erik doesn't even know why he's surprised, really; it fits the current state of his life just perfectly.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Leave Your Shirt Off

The first coordinates they get out of Cerebro lead them to a strip club.

Erik doesn't even know why he's surprised, really; it fits the current state of his life just perfectly.

"You ah," Charles says, looking slightly uncomfortable, and for one moment, Erik allows himself the illusion that perhaps Charles is even more of an innocent than Erik has estimated him to be. "Have you ever been to this sort of place before?"

Cute, in a way, how Charles is apparently concerned about _Erik's_ innocence here.

"I know what to expect," he says. Current 'popular' music. Women taking their clothes off. Nothing to get particularly excited or embarrassed about, in other words.

"You - all right." Charles looks less than satisfied with the answer. "Maybe - "

"Shall we go, then?" Erik interrupts him, because they're really not here to talk about Erik's (non-existent) problems with visiting a strip club for the first time in his life.

"Just ... follow my lead in there," Charles says. "And if you get uncomfortable or anything, simply tell me, and we'll leave. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Erik decides it's better for everyone involved if he doesn't dignify that with a reply. Quicker, too.

 

" 'More tea, vicar?' " Charles says, chortling.

"It was a good line, wasn't it?" Erik is aware that he is only slightly drunk. Tipsy, perhaps. He could still kill a man and (perhaps more importantly at the moment) keep Charles safe.

Charles, obviously, is completely sloshed. "Good? That, my friend, was a _great_ line."

"Thank you." Charles looks at him expectantly, and Erik realizes some kind of compliment is expected in return. "You did quite nicely yourself."

" _Nicely_?" Charles asks, with all the put-uponness of the truly drunk.

"Quite an interesting new recruit you got for us."

Charles's expression brightens immediately. "A splendid mutation, isn't it? Two for the price of one, practically, unless the two are connected. It's possible, of course, although it hardly seems likely."

Erik wonders if this is how Charles talks about _him_ to other people. Not as a person, a someone, but rather as something of purely academic interest. (He knows this is unfair, that Charles honestly cares about people much more than Erik ever will. Charles is just terribly good at being a jerk on occasion, especially when he's had a few drinks. It's a little bit endearing, really.)

"Something for you to sleep on."

"I'm not sleepy yet." In a perfect universe, Charles would have followed this up with a yawn.

In their present, _im_ perfect universe, Charles looks bright-eyed and completely awake. "I am," Erik says.

"We could go back there, you know," Charles says. "They're probably still open."

No need to ask where 'there' is. "No thanks. But you can go, if you want to." There's no way Erik is going to let Charles go anywhere except to his bed right now, but Charles doesn't need to know or hear that. He probably means well with the offer.

"Maybe I will."

Charles always means well. "Fair warning, I'm going to take off my shirt now."

"Why would you - did something happen to you?" Just like that, drunk-and-debauched Charles has gone to be replaced by sober-and-concerned Charles. "Are there bruises? For God's sake, Erik, you can't - "

"Only skin," Erik says. "You seemed ... roused at the prospect. Of someone taking off their clothes. Earlier." Charles still looks utterly mystified. "Back there?"

Charles blinks. "That was - well, that was hardly the same. I mean, those women, they were - "

"Paid for it," Erik says, more coldly than he intended. "And not particularly well, I may add. I imagine they make most of their income from the tips they get from customers."

"It's a job." Charles sounds sullen. "It's their choice."

"You are such an utter idiot sometimes." On the upside, any prospect of Erik 'rousing' Charles by taking his shirt off seems well and truly off the table, which is just as well, probably.

Charles says nothing. His head is turned away from Erik.

Erik sighs. "Look, Charles, I - " Charles starts snoring softly. "Not sleepy at all, were you?"

It would serve Charles right if Erik left him right where he was, but Erik is, in the end, a soft-hearted fool. He gets Charles a blanket at first and then, when that doesn't quite satisfy him, he half-drags, half-carries Charles to the nearest bed.

 

Erik assumes that to be the end of it, really; Charles doesn't so much as apologize for falling asleep on him the next morning (probably because he doesn't remember anything) and their next recruit is found in a much more normal location.

Possibly, he should have known better.

"What's this, then?"

Charles is holding a record. He's also grinning like the cat that got to the cream, which alerts Erik to the fact that at some point this evening, he should probably make an effort to smile or risk Charles going off in a sulk again.

"A strip show," Charles says, as if the record should somehow have been a more than obvious clue.

It takes an effort _not_ to smile. Erik is fairly sure it wouldn't go over well at this particular moment.

"This is a surprise. I thought you weren't interested in me taking off my shirt."

Charles chuckles. "Well, then _clearly_ you haven't been paying attention."

"I have, actually," Erik says, turning his back on Charles for a moment to hang his jacket. The sensible thing to do would be to kick Charles out right now. "Quite closely, in fact."

One exit to his room and he's blocking it. Bed to the right - not a good direction to move in. Left, then.

"You see, I kept thinking about what you said the other night," Charles says.

"I said a lot of things the other night." Being around Charles has made him positively talkative.

"Erik, please." Close enough reach out and touch now, and Charles still doesn't look even remotely nervous. "Let me do this for you."

"I'm not saying I wouldn't enjoy it," Erik says with the patience of a saint, if he does say so himself.

"Well then," Charles says, magnificently missing the point.

For a telepath, Charles really is terrible at reading other people. "Would you?"

"Would I - " Charles starts laughing. " _That_ 's what's getting you all ... huffy?"

"Charles." The simplest answer would have been 'yes', but given Charles's reaction, that might make him sound like an idiot, and Erik isn't particularly keen on sounding like he's Charles. 'Huffy', for crying out loud. Who even uses a word like that?

"Erik. We want the same thing." Charles's hand feels warm on his arm.

"My friend, we do not."

"We do," Charles insists. "I want to see you take off your shirt and you - "

" - want to see you take off yours," Erik says. "See? Completely different." He feels a little bit lightheaded, which might be a sign of danger, but until Charles starts displaying any symptoms, he's going to write it off as relief.

He also fears he might grinning somewhat manically, although it doesn't seem to bother Charles.


End file.
